


the glass upon the table

by Poose



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Metamorphoses - Ovid, Project Remix - Fandom, Public Domain - Fandom
Genre: Drugs, Experimental, F/M, Gen, Hipsters, Loneliness, Remix, Short, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:52:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/Poose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first contribution to <a href="http://remixthepublicdomain.tumblr.com/">Project Remix</a> A very loose and impressionistic retelling of Echo and Narcissus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the glass upon the table

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queerlyobscure (LadyLovelace)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=queerlyobscure+%28LadyLovelace%29).



The words were the same each time she split with a boyfriend.  
  
 _You’re so pretty, dear. You’ll find somebody new._  
  
And she is and was and will always be beautiful but the times between boys felt as black as the color the Korean girl was painting her toenails. Williamsburg waited while she went into hiding and cried into a pillow on the UES.  
  
Her mother took her tea when her tears became less frequent and the Earl Grey was floral and hot in her throat. She ate a corner of a finger sandwich and only went to the washroom to check if he had texted her a dozen times instead of twenty which was, mother said, _something._  
  
When she finally dragged herself out of bed  at three in the afternoon  it was to get a latte and smoke the first Parliament of the day on her way there.  
  
She texted and texted _hello hello please write me_ but he never wrote back, and one cold April afternoon when she tried his number it turned out that it had changed.  
  
Mother found her a place helping at the museum, two days a week, and on her lunch break she looked at the books in the gift shop, which was close to the door that she had to exit to smoke her lunch.  
  
Into the ether the emails went and the texts floated out with no response and no answer. His band was playing on a Thursday in Alphabet City, a show that she should know better to attend. She teased her hair big to feel brave and winged out eyeliner as thick as it could go.   
  
She got there during the sound check.

(not too early and not too late)

(not too desperate, careful, _pretty girl_ )

 

They played and he sang and she clapped like everyone did because they were good and he; _he_ was magnetic. They were special. He was perfection and she gazed on him and had never stopped loving him, and needed to tell him, or touch him, be close to him like before. 

She chased him through the crowd to the bar where he got a beer and swatted her off like she was a mosquito.

 _I have a show to play_ he said.

 _Can we talk later_ she asked but he brushed her away for the stage and the girls and guys and the attention. She followed him to the afterparty, too, where he ignored for the drug-laden mirror like so many nights before, and she smoked so much that she could not even cry.

 


End file.
